


Risks

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Related: sweetscience, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair is having a hard time dealing with loss and feelings for his partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risks

## Risks

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Title: Risks  
Author: Grey  
Email address: Grey853@aol.com  
Rating: PG-13 for language. No sex.  
Pairing: J/B  
Status: New; complete  
Date: March 2, 1998  
Archive: Yes, to both  
Archive e-mail: Grey853@aol.com  
Series: nope  
Other website: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimer: Don't own anybody, but if I could, well, I'd put a bid in for these two. 

Summary: Blair is having a hard time dealing with loss and facing the truth about himself and his feelings for a certain partner. 

Warnings and Notes: Big nasty spoilers for "Sweet Science", but only mild mention of "Mirror Image" and "Finkleman's Folly". 

Risks  
by Grey 

"Hey, Chief. You going to get up or what?" 

Jim Ellison put two pieces of dry toast on the plate and then stepped back out to the hall, listening carefully as his friend turned over in the bed again. A groan came as the only answer for his question. "Come on, Chief. It's time to drag your ass out here. Don't you have a class at ten? Besides, I cooked breakfast this morning." 

"Not hungry. I'll eat later, Jim. Besides, I'm not going in today." 

Again? "You sick, Chief?" 

"No. Just leave it alone, Jim. Eat and go to work." 

Walking back to the kitchen, the detective stared down at the plate. His appetite gone, he placed the untouched meal in the sink and then took another drink of coffee. This would be the third day in a row that Sandburg had skipped classes as well as the station. Something wasn't right with his best friend. Damn. 

Pouring another cup of coffee, Jim walked down the hall and knocked lightly before entering the room. "Want to tell me what's going on with you?" 

"I'm fine. Just a little tired." 

Lying on his back, fully clothed in yesterday's grubby outfit, Blair Sandburg looked up. His pale face and bloodshot eyes made it pretty clear that he hadn't been sleeping for awhile. Yellow legal pads and stacks of books flanked the outer edge of bed with mess. On the top page of one of the pads everything written had been crossed out. Wadded up paper balls loaded the trash. 

"You're not sleeping or eating. You're not going to work either at the university or with me. Tell me what's going on, Chief. I'm starting to get worried here." 

Sitting up, Blair reached up to smooth back his oily hair. Rubbing his eyes, he finally said, "That coffee for me?" 

Holding out the cup, Jim handed his best friend the drink. "I know it's been a hard few weeks, but this isn't like you." 

"I know, Jim. I'm sorry. Are you going in late because you still have that stakeout tonight?" 

"Yeah. You going to be able to make it?" 

"Sure. You know you can't go on one of those things without me." 

"How are you going to manage if you haven't had any sleep in what, 4 days?" 

"Don't worry about it. I sleep." 

"When? You stay in your room, but you're not sleeping. Sometimes you write, but mostly you just lie here. That kind of scares me a little." 

Looking up puzzled, Blair tilted his head studying Jim's concerned expression. "I'm not going to even ask how you know what I'm doing while I'm alone in here, Mr. Nosy Ears. But, why would me not being able to sleep for a few days scare you? I've gone without sleep a lot longer than that before when I've been on a project or something." 

"Chief, it's not just the insomnia. It's the fact that you're shutting me out, shutting everybody out. You're putting up all these walls and you're just so damn sad looking all the time. I don't know what to do about it." 

"Do? What I do is my business, Jim. There's nothing to do. If I sleep, I sleep. Why is it that you think you have to take care of me all the time? Jesus, you'd think you were my keeper or something." 

"Somebody needs to be. Look at you. When was the last time you showered or washed your hair? And I swear to god, you've lost five pounds this week. Your ass is skinny enough without that. I want to know what's happening with you, but you're shutting me down here." The words dressed themselves more harshly than he intended, but he stood there firm and staring. "I need to know, Chief." 

Nodding, almost defeated, Blair finally whispered, "I know you do, Jim. I know you mean well, but this is my problem. Not yours. I can't really talk about it with you." 

Hurt, but glad his friend would at least admit to the existence of a problem, he asked, "How about talking to someone else then? Simon or maybe Joel." 

Snorting to himself, Blair ran his hand back across his unruly curls. "No way. It's just too personal, Jim. Just respect that, okay? I mean, I'm working it out. I just need a little time. The pieces are still a little too sharp." 

"What about the department shrink? If this is about what happened with Chapel or one of the other cases, it could help." 

"Maybe. But, I'd rather just work it out. I'll be all right. Just give me some space and a little more time." 

Stomach muscles tense with frustration, Jim crossed his arms across his chest and studied Blair as he sat on the edge of the rumbled bed. His friend still didn't meet his eyes, and the hunch of the shoulders and lack of energy seriously bothered him. Still, knowing the younger man's skittish nature, made him hold his own impatience in check. 

"I can do that, but on one condition." 

"Oh, man, why is there always a rule or a condition with you?" 

"I want you to at least clean up and eat, and if this hasn't gotten better by Friday, promise to see somebody." 

"Tomorrow's Friday." 

"I know." 

"I need more time than that, Jim." 

"That's the deal, Chief." 

Taking another drink of coffee, Blair sat quietly for a few more moments. "What are you going to do if I don't make a deal?" 

Surprised by the hard edge behind the soft voice of defiance, Jim shrugged, "Oh, I don't know. Maybe Simon and I can drag your ass down to the station shrink. I think we could take you." 

"Kicking and screaming maybe. Wouldn't that be picture for the guys in the bullpen to talk about." 

"I don't want it to be that way, Chief. I'm just worried about you." 

"I know that, Jim. Believe me if I didn't, I'd be more than pissed right now. I know when you make these little displays of dominance, you mean well." 

Bristling, Jim stood a bit straighter. "I don't want to dominate you, Blair. Where did that come from?" 

"No place. Forget I said it. It's just I need more time. Give me until Monday. If I don't have it under control by then, I'll see somebody." 

"All right. I don't suppose you could tell me what 'it' is, could you?" 

"Go to work, Jim. I'm going to take a shower. I need to talk to Tim at the university. He's been taking over my classes this week. I'll call you later about when to meet for the stake out." 

Reluctantly, the detective started to leave, but stopped for a moment more. "Why don't I call you later to check in?" 

Shaking his head, Blair put the coffee cup down and stood. "I don't need a baby-sitter, Jim. I'll call by this afternoon. Now, move on out so I can get cleaned up." 

Wrinkling his nose in mock disgust. "Sure thing. 'Bout time." 

Not even smiling at the tease, Blair waved his friend away. "Go, Big Guy. Go pester Simon or somebody. Just get out my hair for awhile." 

Turning away Jim Ellison headed to go finish doing the dishes before heading out to the station. Tense, he felt the prickling undercurrent of a terrible gut instinct. He needed his guide back, but somewhere along the line, Blair had lost his way. Unease and nervous twinges reinforced his fear that something very bad was going down with his best friend and he didn't have a clue what it could be or how to help. Shaking his head, he simply resolved to try to be patient and wait. Ellison and patience. It could happen. Yeah, right. 

* * *

"So, where's the kid?" Captain Simon Banks chewed on his stoagie and watched the tell-tale muscle twitches in his best detective's jaw. 

"He's at home. He's doing some research project or something." Jim avoided this superior's eyes while he shuffled through a stack of files on his desk. 

"In my office, Jim. I think we need to talk." 

"I need to get some of this organized first, sir. Why don't we talk later?" 

"You're not fooling me. In my office now." 

Taking a defeated breath, he walked in and sat on the table's edge across from the captain's desk. "So, you going to tell me or do I have to play twenty questions? Where's Sandburg? He hasn't been in since last Friday. What's going on?" 

Shaking his head, Jim rubbed his mouth with an open hand trying to decide what he should say to his confidante and friend. "I'm not sure, Simon. He's got a problem, but he's so close-lipped. I've got no idea what's bothering him." 

"Well, we did just finish up with the Williams case." 

Energy flashed through already tight tendons. "Do you think that's what this is about? I mean, I know Roy was his friend, but he's lost friends before, even worked on some of the cases. He's never done this before." 

Leaning forward, elbows on the desk, Simon asked, "Done what?" 

"If I didn't know better, I'd say he was seriously depressed. He's not eating or sleeping. He either stays in his room or just goes out walking, and I mean walking for hours on end. Not only is he not coming into the station, he's skipping his classes at school." 

"Really? You're right. It doesn't sound like him." 

"Yeah. When he gets upset, he's usually hyper, running around non-stop, talking non-stop. That's the thing that gets me the most, I guess, the not talking. Even when he's just jabbering nonsense, he's talking and usually what's really bothering him slips out. This is different. He won't talk to me about it." 

"No clues at all?" Leaning back, Simon put the cigar down in an ashtray on his desk. 

"Well, it has been a hard few months with Chapel, Finkleman, and now Williams." 

Simon nodded agreement. "Tell me about it. Getting shot didn't help my mood much either." 

Smiling, Jim teased. "True, but you did get to meet Amy. You two still seeing each other?" 

Grinning back, Simon waved a finger in feigned protest. "None of your business, Detective." Then more seriously, he continued, "She's a great woman, Jim. I think I really like her. A lot." 

"Sounds good to me, Simon. You deserve a break in the love department." 

"I hear that." After a brief musing, the captain brought his focus back to Jim. "So, what are we going to do about the kid?" 

"He promised to see somebody if things don't get better by Monday." 

"Monday, huh? What about tonight? Do I need to find somebody to go on stakeout?" 

"No, he'll be there. I mean, even though he's been out all week, he knew I was just doing office work mostly. No major cases. I think he'd be here if he thought I really needed him on something dangerous." 

"I agree. Anything I can do to help?" 

"Nothing I guess. By the way, I wanted to thank you for telling Blair that you appreciated his work around here." 

Banks glanced up, slightly surprised. "He told you about that?" 

"Yeah. Not at first, but later. I know it meant a lot to him." 

"I sometimes forget he's not a cop." 

"You say it often enough. How could you forget?" 

"Why do you think I keep saying it? He really does have good instincts about the cases. It's just that I'm not used to dealing with people who have their feelings so close to the surface. I need to remember that about him." 

"Me, too, sir. He has this thing about not measuring up. I'm not sure where it comes from, but he's really insecure sometimes. You and I, well, we're just a couple of hardasses." 

"True. Though sometimes I think we could take a lesson from the kid about that." 

"How so?" 

"Well, he may be insecure and sensitive, but he's got heart. He really cares about what he's doing all the time. I know we have to distance ourselves to remain objective, but after so long, it's easy to forget that we're dealing with people. Blair never forgets that." 

"I know, sir, but without the distance, we'd burn out. That's why this job is so hard on him." 

"Exactly. Do you think that's what's happening? That maybe he's burning out? This job isn't easy even for tough guys like us, but at least we chose this life. Blair's here to help you." 

"Jesus, Simon, don't you think I know that? I worry and feel guilty about it all the time. If it weren't for me, Blair could be living a safe academic life impressing the scholars and the ladies with his brilliance." 

"Brilliance? Well, I think the ladies like his hair best." 

"That and the smile." Jim's grin turned to a frown. "He hasn't smiled in a long time, Simon. I'm his friend. Why won't he let me help?" 

"I don't know, Jim. But I remember times when I've thought the same thing about you." 

"Me?" 

"Yeah, you do the same thing Blair's doing now, though I have to admit you're getting a lot better." 

"Shit. I sure hope that's not why Blair won't talk to me. You don't think he thinks that I would think less of him because of some problem, do you?" 

"Ramble why don't you, Jim. Who can figure out what goes on in that head of his? At any rate, if he does decide to talk to you, you'll be there. He's a grown man. I think we both forget that sometimes because he's so young compared to us. Just give him some time." 

"I'm trying. Anyway, he has until Monday." 

"What happens Monday?" 

"Normal business I hope." 

"Normal? Sandburg? Come on, Jim. Get real." 

"Kid all you want, but I want my partner back." Jim rose and started to leave. 

"Jim." 

"What?" 

"Don't tell the kid that I forget about him not being a cop, okay?" 

"Your secret's safe, Simon. I mean, we wouldn't want to scare him too much would we?" 

"Scare him how?" 

"Simon Banks, human? Scary stuff." 

"Out." 

"Very good, sir." Jim Ellison headed to his desk, his hand forced down deep in his pocket. He absolutely refused to give into the itch to call home. No way he would phone first. "Hell, Chief, call why don't you." 

* * *

"I really appreciate this, Tim." Blair handed the young man standing in his university office a stack of notes. 

"No problem, Blair. You know I'd do anything for you, babe." 

A slight blush pinked his ears and unshaved cheeks. "Come on, Tim. Don't call me that, okay." 

"Oh, I forgot. We're not supposed to be old buddies, huh?" 

"Don't get mad. I'm not comfortable with pet names." 

"Okay, CHIEF." 

Blair stared at the blond watching him intently waiting for a reaction. Taking a few calming breaths, he spoke evenly. "Don't be a bitch, Tim." 

"Sorry. I just hate the fact that we can't be open." 

"You mean out." 

"Yeah, whatever." Tim Watson put the papers down on Blair's already cluttered desk and studied his ex-lover. "You look like shit, my friend. You said you were having problems, but you didn't say you were sick." 

Shrugging off the concern, Blair sat down closing his eyes to the overhead glare. Rubbing his temples, he desperately wanted to still the pounding in his head. "I'm not sick exactly. Just tired. We've had a rough few months." 

"We? That would be you and Jim." 

"Yeah, it would." 

Blair flinched at the unexpected hand that touched his shoulder. "Man, don't do that." 

"Blair, you're really uptight. What's going on?" 

"Nothing, Tim. It's just I've been under some strain lately." 

"Man, this is more than a little stress. From where I stand it's breakdown time. What happened?" 

Kneeling in front of his unhappy friend, Tim looked up into deep blue eyes. "Tell me, Blair. Did somebody die or what?" 

"Actually, yeah, he did." 

"Damn, who?" 

"Remember I told you about the first person I ever loved?" 

"Yeah, but you never told me his name. Some boxer wasn't it?" Tim straightened. "Shit. 'Sweet' Roy Williams? He was your first lover?" 

"Yeah." A tear fell before he could stop it. 

"Damn, man. I'm sorry. Are you telling me you worked on that case with Jim?" 

A wet voice thickened with pain barely formed words. "Yeah. At first it really hurt, but mostly I was just pissed. I mean, after all this time he finally gets a break and slam, he's dead. Just like that. Alive, warm, and breathing, and then dead. Just dead." 

"Man, that really sucks. It must've been awful. What did Jim think?" 

"He thought it was Roy's brother, but I knew it wasn't." 

Shaking his head, Tim asked his question differently. "No, I mean, what did Jim think about you and Roy?" Watching his friend in silence, he realized the answer. "My god, you didn't tell him. Blair, man, you should've told him." 

Pushing him away, Blair came up out of the chair and paced the room. "How am I supposed to tell him that? No way, man. No fucking way. He thinks I'm straight." 

Tim settled into the vacated seat and watched Blair's anxious movements. "Well, you're not. Look, I'm sorry about your friend Roy dying and all, but don't you think it's about time to come clean with Mr. Clean?" 

"Shut up, Tim. Don't make fun of him. Whatever I said about him, don't use it against me now. I'm just not in the mood to handle your jealousy today." 

Leaning back, Tim spoke clearly. "I'm not jealous, Blair, just confused. I mean, you and I had some good times, but I knew in the beginning you were in love with someone else. It didn't take a genius to figure out who. Every other word out of your mouth was Jim--I wish I could fuck him--Ellison. I knew the score going in." 

Stopping and leaning back against the closed door, Blair wrapped his arms around himself. His voice still hoarse from tears, he struggled to speak. "I'm sorry. I should never have done that." 

"Done what? Let me make love to you? Hey, I liked it. I'd like it again, if you'd let me." 

Staring up in disbelief, Blair shook his head. "No way, Tim. I'm sorry. What happened with us should never have been." 

Moving closer, the slender form walked across the room. Standing in front of the smaller man, Tim positioned himself with a palm on both sides of his face. "Come on, Blair. No strings, man. Just feel good for a little bit. Forget he pain, the loss. Forget Roy, Jim, just feel for awhile. I swear I'll make you feel extra fine, man." 

Leaning in, he brushed warm soft lips against the closed mouth. Hesitating for just a moment, Blair let the body press in, let the full heat warm him. God, it'd been so long. Suddenly an image of Jim flashed, and he pushed. "No, Tim. I can't." 

Resisting the rejection, Watson continued to trap the body against the door. "Don't be that way. Like I said, no strings." 

"Stop it. Now." Reluctantly, Watson pulled back, but not before tracing his fingers gently across Blair's moist bottom lip. "Don't do that, Tim." 

Sighing loudly, he moved away. "All right. But I think you're making a mistake here." 

"It's my mistake. Besides, I thought you were seeing Ken." 

"Seeing and fucking. Not much else. He's not you, Blair. Sure, he's fun, but he's got no soul, no depth, though I must admit he sucks cock like a Greek god. Anyway. Don't worry about it." 

Going to the desk, Tim picked up the papers. Turning he watched as Blair straighten up and composed himself. Shaking his head in puzzlement, he asked, "I don't get it, Blair. When did you become such a prude. I mean, even after you moved in with Ellison, we still made out. I know you had some feelings for me. What's different now?" 

"It doesn't matter what's changed. I don't want to get into this with you. We just can't ever do that again." 

"Why not? Ken and I aren't committed and you're not with anyone else are you?" 

"No. I just can't be with anyone right now." 

"That screwed up, huh? Man, you must really love the guy." 

Uneasy at the turn of conversation, Blair headed for the door. "Thanks for covering the classes, Tim. I'll be back Monday." 

"Blair, the classes aren't a problem. But, man, you've got to tell him." 

"I've got to go. Just leave the stuff on the desk after classes." 

"Listen, it's never going to get better if you don't." 

Standing there, eyes squeezed shut, Blair leaned on one arm outstretched against the door. "I know, but I can't." 

"Why not? Is he some kind of homophobe? You think he'll throw you out if he finds out you're in love with him?" "No, that's not it." 

"Then what?" 

"It's complicated, things I can't explain. Jim and I are more than friends. He's a cop and I'm his partner." 

"So what? Be his life partner, too." 

"I told you he's straight." 

"How do you know that for sure?" 

"I just do." 

"Man, you're so screwed up, you don't know shit. Listen, Ellison thinks you're straight and you're not. Who's to say it's not the same with him? You forget I've seen you two together." A sudden spitefulness laced his words as he moved closer to speak. "Think about it, Blair. He's always touching you, in your personal space. I've seen him watch you. Don't tell me I can't read heat when I see it. He has feelings for you." 

Closer still to the wall, Blair let his forehead rest against the cool boards. "Of course, he has feelings. He treats me like a little brother." 

"Little brother? Not hardly. Take my word on this, Blair babe. That man is not looking at your ass the way a big bro would. Trust me. He may not know it or admit it, but the attraction is there." 

"Please don't do this, Tim." 

"Do what? Make you look at the truth? Oh yeah, that's right, Mr. Obfuscation. Fantasy is so much healthier. Look where it's gotten you." 

Dizzy and suddenly queasy, Blair held himself still until the waves passed. Concerned, Tim asked, "You okay?" 

"Not really. I need to go home. I haven't been sleeping or eating much. Guess it's catching up with me." 

"Want me to drive. You're shaking." The slight pressure of hands rested on his shoulders. The warmth only made him shiver more. 

"No. I'll be all right." 

"I know you will." Shifting back to give the smaller man some space to get to the door, Tim stopped him just once more. "Please, Blair, do everybody a favor and for once in your life be honest." 

Eyes cloudy, his heart's merciless grip on breathing made the world heavy around him. He shrugged and tried to smile. It came out as a grimace. "Man, like I'm supposed to discuss honesty with another guy from the closet? Just leave it alone, okay. I'll be fine. I'll see you Monday." 

Watching Blair shoulder his backpack and head out the door, Tim spoke quietly to himself. "In the closet, huh? Well, I was getting bored in there anyway." Smiling, Tim headed off to class while he formulated his next move. If Blair needed a little nudge to be happy, so be it. 

* * *

"God, I hate stakeouts. If there is a hell, then it's one long stakeout in the middle of winter, sitting in a truck with no heater." 

Despite the heavy coat, gloves, hat, and scarf, Blair shivered beside him. "It's not that cold, Chief." 

"To you maybe. I feel frozen and we've only been here a couple of hours. At least I won't fall asleep. Might wake up a popsicle or something." 

Jim raised his hands in apology. "I'm sorry. I can't turn on the heater without turning on the car. You know the rules, Blair. If we turn on the car, we could be spotted." 

Blair coughed and rubbed his itchy nose. "I know, Jim. Don't worry about it. It's not your fault. Part of the job, right? It's just these stakeouts are like being stuck. No lights, no heat, but at the same time you have to stay pumped because anything might happen. It's hard on the old body." Coughing a little longer and harder, he reached for a tissue. 

"You should've stayed home tonight. You're getting a cold." 

"No, I'm not." Changing the subject, he asked, "So, who exactly is this guy Henderson?" 

Jim wasn't fooled by his guide's tricks, but he played along. "Drug dealer. He's not local. Just moved in a couple of weeks ago. We think he may be the front man for a large cartel getting ready to expand into Cascade." 

"Man, I hate drugs. You'd think people would learn not to use that shit." 

"You'd think." 

The tone made Blair look over and ask, "What?" 

"Well, people do a lot of things that are self-destructive, Chief. You'd think that after a few times, they'd learn to help themselves out and avoid the heartache, but they don't. They do drugs, get involved with the wrong people, take risks. Hell, some lie, some run away. Instead of trusting friends to help out, they hide. We both know about that." 

Biting back the anger, Blair worked hard to keep his voice from sounding too harsh. "What exactly are you saying to me, Jim? You think I'm self-destructive?" 

"Sometimes." 

"That is so not true." His words vibrated with dark energy. 

Jim shifted his back, so he could lean against the window and look at Blair more directly while he spoke. "What would you do if I ignored myself the way you're doing?" 

"I'm not ignoring myself. You're overreacting. I'm just in a little slump. That's not self-destructive. Besides, I remember lots of times when you worked around the clock. How's that different?" 

"It's not really. But have you noticed I don't do that much anymore? I don't do it, because you've helped me see that sometimes, no matter what I do, I can't save the world or even a small part of it. You, Chief. I've let you help me trust again. You don't have any idea how hard that is for a guy like me." 

Refusing to meet Jim's eyes, Blair reached up and cleaned off the inside fog from the window with his sleeve. Staring out to the darkness, he spoke very softly. "I know it was hard for you, but you still lock me out sometimes." 

"I know, but right now it's you who's not living up to his end of this thing. If I share my problems with you, it's only fitting that you help me out by doing the same. It's not fair to be one-sided on this." 

The darkness outside suddenly flashed into brightness as a car turned on its lights. "Get down, Chief." 

Sinking out of sight, Blair watched his sentinel go into full police mode, tracking the car as it slid past them going north. Reaching down, Jim put out a call to follow. As Jim started up the truck, he turned back to Blair for just a moment. "Don't think this is over, Chief. It's just intermission time, that's all." 

The young man closed his eyes and tried to shut out the raging words roaring in his head. He wanted more than anything to tell his partner the truth. Jim valued truth. Blair just didn't know how much he would appreciate it once it slapped him so damn hard in the face. 

* * *

The distant chirping of the phone upstairs and the thin light pressing from outside signaled that it must be morning. Blair woke up enough to think back to the night before. The bust had gone down smoothly around 3 A.M. Turned out Henderson liked to gamble too much for his own good and had been spending "company" money in the wrong places. Behind bars, he would sing a merry little song to the D.A. and make life a lot easier for the narcotics division for awhile. 

Meanwhile reality at the loft crashed harshly on Blair's overworked system. Looking at the clock, he realized he'd only been asleep a couple of hours. His head throbbed and his chest felt tight. As he sat up, he started coughing again. Razored heat drained down into his lungs, and he coughed even harder. By the time he'd stopped, Jim shadowed his doorway. 

"You okay?" 

"I think you're right about getting a cold." 

"Sounds worse than a cold. Sounds like bronchitis or something. Maybe you'd better stop by the clinic this morning and check it out." 

"And maybe I'll just get up and get a shower and pretend like you're not my mom." 

"What the hell's wrong with you these days? No matter what I say, you act like I'm the enemy." 

Sitting up slowly, Blair ran a hand across his face and tried to clear his vision. He pulled the covers up around his chilled shoulders and then focused on his friend. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. Who was that on the phone. Surely it's not another case. We just got home a few hours ago." 

"Actually it is. There's been a murder over at the university. Simon wanted me to take it." 

Blood turned to ice in his veins. "University? Did he say who it was?" 

"That's the thing. We don't know yet. Found his body back in one of the stables in the agricultural center." 

"Guess I'd better get up and dressed then." 

As his young friend started to rise, Jim placed a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I know this one's on your stomping grounds, Chief, but maybe you ought to stay here. Feels like you're getting a fever and your lungs are all congested." 

"Yeah, my head, too, but I'm okay. Besides, like you said it's my territory. When we find out who the guy is, I might be able to help you. Did they at least say whether it looked like a student or faculty member?" 

"Probably a student. Young, early twenties. Anyway, we can grab some coffee and something to eat on the way if you're sure you want to go." 

Shrugging off Jim's hand, Blair stood and headed toward the shower. "Just give me a minute and I'll be ready. Forget about the food though. We both know that'd be waste, at least for me." 

Jim watched as his guide shut the door of the bathroom and then headed for the kitchen to get coffee. While Blair got ready, he leaned against the counter as he tried to dismiss the erotic images floating through his thoughts. Images of Blair naked, his skin lathered and wet, his long curls trailing wet down his shoulders, played hot and nasty behind closed lids. He fought against his own growing arousal. No way he could let Blair know that he felt more than friendship, needed him more than breathing. Way too risky. 

"Jim, you okay?" 

Coming up from the daze, the sentinel focused on his guide. Blair's hair, tied back with a leather strap, stubbornly resisted taming. Dark blue eyes stared back at him, questioning. "What's going on, man? It's a little early to zone." 

"I was just thinking." 

"Must've been pretty strong stuff to react like that." 

"Yeah, pretty strong stuff. You ready to go?" 

"Whenever you are." Jim headed for the door, grabbing his coat and handing the jacket to Blair. As the younger man's fingers touched his grip, he nearly cried out, but bit his lip instead. 

"What the hell is it, Jim?" 

"Nothing. Let's just get going. I hate murders." 

"Well, they're not exactly my favorite thing either. Damn shame you do this sort of thing for living. Why couldn't you be a nice professor or something?" 

Stopping, Jim turned. "Is that what you want me to do? Quit my job?" 

"Are you serious? Of course, not. What's with you this morning?" 

Shaking off the feeling of dread creeping slowly into his bones, Jim just shook his head and reached for the keys. "Don't worry about it, Chief. When we get through with this one, we've both got to get some sleep. I'm starting to feel punch drunk. Don't mind me." 

Chuckling with real humor for the first time in days, Blair followed him out. "Never do, Jim. Why start now?" 

* * *

"Well, the mystery isn't who he is, but how he got here." Brown handed Jim the wallet taken from the body. "No one was supposed to be in here after five on a week night." 

"Tim Watson." Turning to Blair, he saw his friend run for the outside of the stable to heave up what little liquid sloshed in his stomach. 

"I take it Blair knew him?" Brown listened with concern while Blair continued retching between coughs. 

"I'm pretty sure this is the kid who was teaching his classes this week. I'll have to wait to ask him." 

"Maybe you should take him home, Jim. I mean, I know he gets queasy at scenes, but he really looks sick this time." 

"The guy's face is kicked in. If he's Blair's friend, that's enough to do it." 

"Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, we've already questioned the security guard and we're rounding up anybody else who might've been around at the time." 

"Okay, you get a list together and we'll go over it. Has the coroner been here yet?" 

"On the way. I've going to go talk to this guy Davis. He's head stable hand. I'll get back with his statement as soon as I can." Stepping in closer, Brown lowered his voice. "I'm telling you, Jim. You should get him out of here. If he knows the guy, he shouldn't be here. I mean with the Williams case, and now this, well, man, he should just go home." 

"You're right. I'll get him out of here as soon as I can. He doesn't need to see anymore of this." As Brown walked away, Jim turned his attention to his young friend. Blair leaned unsteadily against the stable door as technicians worked around him. His heartbeat raced and his breathing sounded wet and ragged. Shit. 

"Blair, come on. We're getting you out of here." 

"No, it's all right. It was just a shock, you know. I just didn't expect it to be Tim. I mean, what the hell was he doing out here for Christsakes? He hated horses, hated the smell. Plus, he was allergic to hay." 

Tilting his head, he listened to the tightness of tone, but also heard something else he couldn't place. "How do you know that? How close were you to this Tim? I thought he was just a someone you taught with." 

Blair looked up and had to blink hard to clear his vision. If he didn't know better he'd swear he'd heard a flavor of jealousy in the words. He would've smiled at the irony of Jim Ellison being envious of Tim, if he'd had the energy. "Tim was a friend, Jim, a close friend. I've known him for a couple of years longer than I've known you. And I'm telling you, he wouldn't have been here unless there was a very good reason." 

"Or unless someone forced him." 

Nodding sadly, Blair agreed. "Maybe he came here and somehow got lost, got in the stall by mistake." Even as he said it, he recognized the grasping for straws quality of the statement. 

Surprisingly, Jim didn't argue. "Maybe, Chief. Come on. The team will take care of this. I'll take you home." 

Turning abruptly, Blair held out a hand. "No way, man. You need to go over this scene with your senses. There's a lot of traffic that's gone through here. You could find something that they might miss. He was a friend, Jim, the second one I've lost in less than a few weeks. I'm getting really tired of losing people, you know. The least we can do is find out who did this." 

Fever spread out across his skin at Blair's touch. Closing his eyes to block his own reaction. He faintly heard his guide's voice at a distance. 

"Jim, come on, man. Focus." 

"I am, Chief. Just give me a minute to realign." 

"Realign from what?" 

"You, Chief. You've got a temperature and your lungs are filling up with fluid. As soon as I sweep this place you're going to go to the clinic and then home." 

With no energy left for fighting, Blair just nodded. That alone prompted Jim to realized how bad his friend must feel. Turning his vision up, he slowly scanned the area nearest the stall where Watson's corpse still lay. At first nothing stood out, but then he noticed two sets of impressions. Closely placed foot prints facing one another indicated a possible rendezvous. Jim moved in to run his hand across the ground and realized that both sets of large prints had to be made by men. Just as he started to stand, he noticed a very weak smell, something he didn't recognize. Reaching down with a gloved hand, he retrieved a capsule. Sniffing it still gave no clue to what particular drug it could be. No doubt a tox screen could do that. He placed it in a bag and stood up. 

"What is it, Jim?" 

"I think your friend was out here with someone who drugged him. I don't know if Tim was dead or alive before the horse trampled him. A coroner will have to figure that out. At any rate, this pretty much makes me think it was premeditated, and not just something that got out of hand." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Let's get out of here so we can talk in private, Chief." 

"Jim, what's going on?" 

"Look, go get in the truck and we'll talk, okay? Just do it, please." 

Seeing the tight lines of exhaustion pulling at his sentinel's features made Blair's resistance vanish. "Okay." 

As soon as Blair left, he found one of the techs and then Brown to let them know what they needed to do and why. Rubbing his face with a callused hand, Jim glanced over at his partner slumped back resting in his truck. "What's going on here, Chief? What aren't you telling me about all this?" 

* * *

Four hours, a doctor's visit, an ex-ray, and pharmacy stop later, the two men dragged into the loft exhausted. Keys dropped into the basket as Jim shook off his coat. Blair left his on as he staggered to the couch, the medication containing codeine to control his cough already kicking in. 

"Damn, I can't seem to feel my legs, Jim." 

"Hold on there, buddy. I'll get you some water so you can take the rest of those pills. Then I'll get you to bed." 

"Man, I so do not like taking things that make the room spin." 

"Good thing you don't drink much." 

"There's a reason for that. I hate feeling like this. Help me to the bathroom before you do anything else. I think I'm going to be sick." 

Special covert ops training didn't help Jim succeed, but at least Blair missed the rug. Lying curled up on the floor, he hugged his stomach while he moaned. "Like I need this shit. This sucks big time. Man, I am so sorry." 

"Don't worry about it. I'll clean it up." Kneeling beside his friend, Jim handed him a damp cloth and helped him sit up without making another mess. After a few awkward pauses and close calls, the ex-ranger finally got the young man to the edge of the bed. "Raise your arms, Chief. I have to get this soiled shirt off." 

"God, that stinks. Hope you've got the dials down." 

"Already done, Chief. Now, get those arms up." 

Slowly, he obeyed. Quickly he found himself being redressed in a clean sweat shirt. "Now the pants." 

"No way, man. I'll do it." 

"Blair, I just want you to change into sweats. You can't sleep in those and the doctor said you need to stay warm." 

"The doctor also said this medicine would help me feel better. Instead I feel like shit." 

"All right. You change while I go clean up the hall and get you something to drink. You've got to get those pills down and keep them down." 

"Like, do you think I'm planning to barf up my guts on purpose or what?" 

"I didn't mean that. I just meant that if you can't keep the antibiotics down, we might have to call the doctor again." 

"Don't threaten me, Jim." Blair sank back weakly against the headboard. He tried to get under the covers, but found it a monumental and impossible task. 

"Come on, Chief. Get up for a minute." Blair swayed, barely able to stand, while Jim pulled back the blankets. "Now, take off the pants before you sit down." 

Fumbling with the zipper of the jeans, Blair lost his balance. Jim's strong arms caught him and lowered him gently to the bed. "Oh, man. I didn't know we were on a cruise." 

"Cruise?" 

"Yeah, the damn Titanic." 

Laughing as he pulled off his friends shoes, he then rolled down his jeans. The skin, fever flushed, burned his fingers. Quickly and efficiently, he pulled on the gray sweat pants and then tucked the legs back under the covers. "Now stay here while I get your Gatorade and pills." 

"I hate Gatorade, Jim. I want tea." 

"You can have tea, but you need the other, too. Doctor said you were dehydrated and run down." 

"I swear to god if you say I told you so, I'm going to steal your gun and shoot you in the damn foot." 

Jim smiled briefly, but frowned when he saw Blair close his eyes, his breathing raspy and bubbling. 

After cleaning up the hall, he hurried to the kitchen to fix a tray. Bringing back plenty of liquids for his picky guide to choose from, he put them on the bedside table. He also brought extra pillows. "Sit up, Chief. You need to be elevated so you can breathe easier." 

"Hey, Jim, you make a cute nurse." Glassy blue eyes hid behind drugged and droopy lids. 

"Here take these and drink some of this. Then I'll let you get some sleep." 

Reluctantly, Blair picked up and swallowed the pills. "Jim." 

"What?" 

"What were you so upset about in the stable with Tim?" 

Avoiding Blair's eyes, he put the empty glass back on the tray. "We'll talk in the morning. You need to get some rest." 

"What did you find, Jim? Look, I know I'm sick. I can hardly hold my eyes open, but just tell me. Maybe I can help." 

"Okay. Was Tim seeing anybody in particular?" 

Blair closed his eyes and leaned back into the stack of pillows. "He was seeing a guy named Ken Ruben." 

"Ruben? You mean the star player of the football team Ken Ruben?" 

"Don't sound so shocked, Jim." 

"I'm not shocked." The larger man shifted uneasily on the bed. 

"Sure you are. You're thinking the team's biggest, baddest jock's gay? Man, how'd that happen?" 

"So, you knew Tim was gay?" 

Blair opened his eyes and studied the serious face locked on his every movement. "Actually he was bi, but mainly he liked guys. And, yeah, I knew about him." 

"So, why didn't you tell me right away?" 

"Because I didn't know if it had anything to do with the murder. We still don't know for sure. Look, Tim was in the closet. There's no reason to tell anyone unless it's part of the reason he was killed." 

Jim felt the leg beside him slide around beneath the covers, edging its way against his thigh. He ignored the quick surge in his groin and the tingle all over his heart. 

"I think there might be a connection. He wasn't in the stable alone and I think he was with a man, someone heavy with large feet. There was no sign of a struggle, but I'm thinking if Tim was drugged, it would've taken someone pretty big to put him in that stall. There was no dragging involved. Someone lifted and carried him." 

Looking up, Jim saw the tears for the first time. Reaching over, he wiped one away. "I'm sorry about your friend, Blair." 

"I know. It's just that with Roy dead and now Tim, it just seems really surreal. I can't believe that they're both gone." 

"I'm sorry." 

"You have to know something else, too, Jim." 

The breathing and heartbeat quickened. The sentinel put his hand on his guide's heart and shook his head. 

"Later, Chief. Get some sleep first. Doctor said if you don't get some rest, this bronchitis could turn into pneumonia quick." 

Blair reached up and took Jim's hand in his. "No, not later. I have to say this now before I lose my nerve." The heart pounded like thunder. "You wondered why Roy's death hit me so hard." 

"He was a friend. I can understand that." 

"He was more than a friend. He was the first man I ever loved. We were together off and on for almost ten years from the time I was 16." 

Jim stopped breathing for a minute. The light narrowed and blinked for a brief moment before returning to full brightness. "What are you saying here, Chief. That you're gay?" 

"No, bi, like Tim. I loved Roy, but he didn't want anyone to know about us. We could be friends in public, but nothing else. Besides, he could never settle down and commit. I gave up hoping for that a long time ago. Anyway, I haven't had many male lovers, just Roy and Tim." 

"What? You were Tim Watson's lover, too?" 

"Yeah, small world, huh? I mean, imagine that. The only two men I've ever slept with and they're both dead within a few weeks of each other. Funny, huh?" 

"Hysterical." Sitting there dumbfounded, Jim Ellison wanted to scream, but didn't. For the first time in years, he had no clue what to say about anything at all. What he did know was that Blair Sandburg, formally unattainable, still held his hand to his heart. He still felt an overwhelming desire and comfort at being near this man beside him. He wanted to tell him that, but instead he held back. 

"Jim, tell me what you're thinking, man. I feel like I'm sort of taking a huge risk here." 

Startled, Jim focused back on Blair. "A risk about what? You loving Roy surprises me, but it certainly explains your actions. As for Tim, I didn't know him. It's hard to know what to say. But, I'm sorry you've had such an awful time with all this. Now, you're sick and, I just want you to be well again, that's all." 

"You're not angry or upset that I'm bi?" 

"Why should I be? We're still friends, right? I'm still the sentinel and you're still the guide. Sure, your sense of direction is shitty, and you're sicker than a dog right now, but hey, we're partners, right?" 

Laughing made him cough, so Jim waited for the answer. As soon as he settled back, Blair nodded weakly. He raised Jim's hand to his lips and kissed it. "Partners, man." 

Still holding on, he let Jim's hand fall back to his chest. Not long afterwards, his eyes closed, and he drifted into a deep sleep. His breathing became less labored and steady. Beneath the braided fingers, Blair's heartbeat became the sentinel's beacon. The regular rhythm of it soothed concern and confusion. He didn't know exactly how or when, but Jim Ellison realized he needed truth. For the first time in ages, the risk of rejection no longer existed as such a great threat. The man beside him had never said the words, but his constant and faithful actions painted a picture of love. In the morning, there would be new risks to face, but there would also be new hope. 

Jim shifted and moved in beside Blair, sitting on the outside edge of the bed. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, he pulled him in close. Fever radiated into his chest, but he held firm, firm like his love for the man in his arms. The realization literally shook him. In his entire life, he'd never imagined falling in love with another man, especially one as different from himself as Blair. But, suddenly none of that mattered. Resting there, he let himself lean in a little to mold himself to the smaller body. His own breathing slowed and soon both sentinel and guide found the night to be not nearly so lonely or cold. 

* * *

The sound of the phone jarred him from a restful dream about tuning his truck's engine. Man, that baby purred nicely, no hesitation at all. It felt good. 

Trying not to awaken his sleeping companion, he carefully let Blair slip off his arm and back onto the pillow. Assured that he remained asleep, Jim headed out to the living room to return the call. 

"Hey, Simon, it's Jim. What's going on?" 

"Jim, how's the Kid? Brown said he was sick." 

"He's asleep. Doctor said it's severe bronchitis. He's going to be out of commission for a few days. Did Brown get anything yet?" 

"Well, that's what I wanted to tell you. I think you'd better get down here quick. All hell's about to break loose if the press gets hold of this one." 

"Why? What happened?" 

"Brown went to Watson's place and caught Ken Ruben going through his things. When he questioned him on it, the kid panicked, and tried to run for it." 

"Has he confessed?" 

Hesitation on the other end made him very nervous. "Tell me, Simon. What'd he say?" 

"I don't want to talk on the phone about this, but suffice it to say that Blair's name came up and that there's going to be a major field day if we can't get a lid on this and I mean quick." 

"I'm on my way." 

Hanging up the phone, Jim turned to find Blair standing in the hallway, his blanket wrapped around him like a cape. Major bed hair fanned out from around his face, and his eyes still stared unfocused and blurry from a drugged sleep. "What's happening?" 

"You should be in bed, Chief." 

"I know. I just needed to find out what you were up to out here." 

"They've got Ruben downtown. I need to go find out some things. Now, you get back in bed and I'll get you some more juice and pills before I leave." 

"Oh, goody." 

"Don't complain. The congestion's already better." 

"I know. I just don't feel very good. It's getting so I can't tell if I feel this bad because my body's a damn traitor or if it's because this whole death business just sucks." 

"Maybe both." 

"Yeah, maybe. Call me when you know something, okay?" 

"I promise. Now, get back to bed." 

"Sure thing. Right after I go to the bathroom." Turning just before he closed the door, he asked, "Jim, did you sleep in my bed all last night?" 

"Yeah. I figured I'd be down here every fifteen minutes anyway. Thought I'd save us both some time. Does that bother you?" 

"No. I just wondered. Thanks." 

"No problem, Chief." 

As soon as his young partner finished and tucked himself back in bed, Jim got cleaned up. Before he headed out, he glanced back to his best friend's bedroom. He wanted Blair well again, and quite frankly, he wanted his guide in his arms. Shaking his head, Jim grinned like a big goof to himself and thought it was a damn good thing Simon couldn't read minds. Jim Ellison in love with another man? He'd crack up. 

* * *

Looking down at his file, Jim turned to his captain. "So what's the story? Why'd you want to talk to me before I questioned Ruben?" 

Simon stood behind his desk rearranging his cup and then his papers nervously. "I think you'd better sit down, Jim." 

Shit. "I don't have time for this, sir. What did he say about Blair?" 

"Has Blair ever mentioned this Tim Watson in any other context other than just being friends?" 

"Just tell me what the boy said." 

"He said he killed Watson to keep him from coming out and bringing Ruben with him." 

"You're kidding? He killed a guy to keep people from finding out he's gay?" 

"That surprises you?" 

"Well, yeah, a little. It's a new age, Simon." 

"Not that new, Jim." Simon picked up one of his cigars and rolled between his palms before sucking on it. 

"So, what's all this got to do with Blair?" 

Simon coughed and then cleared his throat. "He said that this Watson was going to announce he was gay so that Blair could come out, too." 

"Oh shit." Jim sat down heavily in the chair beside the desk. 

"You can see why this is a potential time bomb. This guy's a star player and two of the teaching fellows are his lovers." 

"What? No, that's not right. Blair may have been with Watson, but not with this Ruben guy." 

Shocked, Simon moved back in his chair, away from the desk. "You knew?" 

"Blair told me last night after we'd found the body." 

"But you didn't know before that?" 

"Nope, not a clue. Pretty damn stupid for a detective, right?" 

"I wouldn't call it stupid." 

"How about blind? I mean, Blair's always been a dog when it came to women, but I never once thought of him being with another guy. I have to tell you, it made me think about some things." 

"What things?" Simon licked his dry lips and swallowed hard trying not to imagine the things Jim could think about when it came to Blair. He failed and hoped Jim couldn't see him blush. 

"Let's just say that life may be a little different around here when this case is finished and Sandburg's back on his feet." 

"What are you talking about, Jim?" 

"Don't worry, Captain. I haven't lost my mind yet, honest. But, tell me, did Ruben know why Tim suddenly had this desire to go public?" 

"You need to ask him that. I just wanted to prepare you before you went in. Didn't want to have you sucker punched during the interrogation. Can't believe you already knew." 

"Thanks, and don't feel bad. Like I said, I just found out last night. It's not like I was keeping it from you, Simon." 

Studying Jim's flashing eyes, the captain wondered if there could be such a thing as blue lasers. The man could look through stone when he wanted. "Jim, I hope you know that you don't have to keep anything from me. If something's going on with you and Blair, I need to know." 

"Captain, right now I have a suspect to talk to and as for my partner, well, that's something we can discuss later, okay?" 

"Sure." 

But he wasn't sure. Other concerns besides the murder played across the detective's sculpted features and not for the first time, Jim Ellison's face signaled clearly, back away, give me space. Jaw twitching, he picked up the file and started for the door. The broad line of shoulder muscles stretched the T-shirt and holster straps tight across Jim's back as he stood absolutely straight, determined, and extremely dangerous. 

Suppressing a shiver, Simon merely stated, "Jim, don't forget I'm your friend." 

Pausing at the door, a slight smile graced his lips. "I know that. Now, I'm going to talk to this sorry son of a bitch. You want to enjoy the show?" 

"Enjoy? Hardly. Then again, I haven't seen a good ass-whippin' without a single blow in a long time. Let's go." 

* * *

Halfway through the questioning, Jim sat down pretty much stunned to his socks. "What did you say?" 

"I said, it's partly your fault this happened." Ken Ruben, all 6'4", 250 pounds of him, sat handcuffed to the table. The taut white crewneck encircled his beefy neck while piglet brown eyes stared out defiantly. A large, thin-lipped mouth formed the words carelessly, almost with a bold arrogance that made Jim want to smack his saggy jaws. 

"Tim loved that Sandburg guy and he wanted him to be able to tell you what you were obviously too dumb to figure out." 

"Wait a minute. What the hell are you talking about here? You killed Watson because you didn't want people to know you were gay. What does Sandburg have to do with anything?" 

"Tim would never have thought about telling people about us except that he thought that if he outed Sandburg, then Sandburg could tell you that he was in love with you." 

"What?" Jim braced both hands on the table's edge, the biceps pumped and tense, his heart racing a marathon. 

"Yeah, Tim loved the little squirt, but he wouldn't have anything to do with him a few months after you came into the picture. Broke Tim's heart. Anyway, if you weren't such a blind mother fucker, you could've figured it out and then Tim wouldn't be dead." 

"Don't even play that stupid tune, Ruben. You took Watson to that stable, drugged him, and let him get trampled to death. That's got nothing to do with Sandburg or me. Don't even try to excuse yourself for any of it." 

"Yeah, I gave him the roofie, actually double-dosed him. He thought he was going to get high, I'd go down on him, and then he'd have his fun with me. We'd done it before. He liked going to different places, public places, to make out. He got off on the risk." 

"And you? You didn't like taking chances, almost daring the world to find out? It didn't make you excited thinking about maybe getting caught, your secret finally in the open?" 

Shrugging huge shoulders, Ruben looked down at his swollen fingers. "Maybe, a little. But, you've got to understand. I'm on scholarship here. Fags aren't exactly welcomed with open arms and even if people say it's okay to be gay, you and I both know that's bullshit. If people found out I'm gay, I could lose everything--school, the team, even most of my family." 

"Tim Watson lost his life." 

"Yeah, he did. And I'm sorry about that. I wasn't really thinking real straight at the time." 

"No kidding." 

"I mean, I just didn't want him to tell anybody, just go back to the way it was, you know, but he wouldn't listen to reason. Honestly, I didn't plan any of what finally happened. We argued and he wouldn't change his mind. When he passed out, I just put him in with that horse and spooked it on impulse. I wasn't thinking about what would actually happen. I had to stop him and, I guess, I went too far." 

Jim handed a pad and pen over to the young man fated to probably spend most of his life in prison. "Write it down." 

"All of it? Even the part about your guy Sandburg?" 

"It's part of the story. Write it." 

"Okay." 

Oh shit. Blair loved him. Gladness and fear packed a mighty wallop and his breathing wanted to test his patience. He knew Simon watched from the other side of the glass, but keeping a neutral expression became almost impossible even for the stone-faced Ellison. Standing, he ordered the guard to watch Ruben while he wrote the confession and then left the room. His captain waited for him, but he waved him off. 

"Later, Simon. I'll be back later. I need to talk to my partner. He's got a lot of explaining to do." 

Captain Simon Banks just shook his head and let him go. He'd deal with the whole thing later, too. He had a D.A. to call and the mayor, and the Chief of Police. Rubbing his forehead and chewing on his cigar, his thoughts strayed to the image of Blair Sandburg being hit by a freight train labeled Jim Ellison. Poor Kid. What a mess. 

* * *

Jim heard the pecking of keystrokes while still on the stairs. Coming through the door, he spied Blair working at the laptop set up on the table. "You're supposed to stay in bed resting." 

Reaching forward to get a tissue, the younger man blew his nose noisily before answering. "I know, but I really do feel better. I thought you were going to call me. What happened downtown?" 

Throwing the keys on the side table, Jim closed the door and shrugged off his coat. Suddenly feeling unsure, he decided to stick with the case. "Ruben confessed. He's being processed right now." He went over to get coffee. Holding the pot up, he asked, "Want some more?" 

"Sure. Maybe I can keep my eyes open for more than five minutes at a time." Filling his cup, Jim sat down across from him. Taking a quick drink, Blair watched his friend cautiously. "What's wrong, Jim?" 

"We've got to talk." 

"About?" The tension constricted his throat. He put down the cup, his hands shaking, his skin suddenly very cold. 

"The press will probably hear this, so you need to know that Ruben's claiming that he killed Tim because he was going to out him." 

Shaking his head in confusion, Blair argued, "Tim wouldn't do that. He respected choices." 

"Are you saying that Tim didn't want to be out or that he wouldn't out anyone else?" 

Thinking carefully for a minute, Blair finally gave in. "Now that I think about it, I guess maybe he did want people to know. He used to do a lot of risky things." 

"What kind of risky things?" He had to practically bite his tongue not to ask if Blair took risks with him. 

"At first it was just sneaking around making out in theaters or outside restaurants. Later he started using drugs and going out. I wasn't into that. We fought about it a lot towards the end." 

"What else?" 

"Jim, I'm not sure I should tell you all this. I mean what difference does it make? He's dead." 

Reaching out, Jim touched Blair's chin and lifted his face to stare into his eyes. "Chief, I'm not getting some big thrill hearing about this guy you were with. I have to know about it. Ruben plans to make a big issue of this and your name's in it." 

Blair came out of the chair like a he'd been bitten by a rattlesnake. "What? What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Look, I don't want to upset you, but there's no way around it. Ruben says that Tim wanted to come out and bring everybody with him, including you." 

"Why the hell would he do that? It doesn't make any sense." 

His voice low and steady, Jim stated simply, "He wanted you to be able to tell me you loved me." 

All breathing stopped, sentinel and guide locked in visual embrace. Slowly sound and sensation returned and Blair looked away. As he sat back down in the chair, running his hand back through his hair, he refused to regain eye contact. Mumbling almost to himself, he groaned, "Oh, man, I am so sorry about this. Please don't get pissed." 

Gently, with a tenderness draped with love, Jim spoke softly, "Blair, why would I be pissed that you love me? How could that ever make me mad?" 

Wet blue eyes glanced up, wary and unsure. Seeing Jim's expression eased his own into unbelievable acceptance. "Well, hell, why didn't you say something, Jim?" 

"Why didn't you? You're the one always running it, saying we need to be honest and share our feelings." 

"Well, yeah, but I'm full of bullshit, too." 

"True. But you're also the guy I love. I just wish one of us had had the balls to say it before all this." 

The wide grin faded, and Blair's words stumbled over his tongue. "I know. Hell, I never wanted any of this to happen. I should've told you a long time ago. I was just too afraid to take the risk." 

"Yeah, I know. Rejection's too harsh. I may have been a ranger, but I'm a real coward when it comes to feelings. Give me a gun and a mission and I'll risk dying with the best of men. Give me a guide who might love me and I hide behind work and working out, not to mention the other stupid shit of dating women I could care less about it. It wasn't fair to them or to you. I'm sorry." 

Tears trickled down Blair's flushed cheeks. Brushing back damp curly strands with a trembling hand, he struggled to find the right words. "I love you, Jim. I'm sorry, too. I should've told you. I thought I was the only one who got scared." 

"No way, Chief. Love is scary business, and it doesn't matter who that other person is, it's always risky. With us, well, that makes it even harder." 

Looking up, blue eyes meeting blue, Blair voice grew husky. "What are we going to do, Jim? This changes everything." 

"We'll deal with it. Besides, it doesn't change the fact that we're partners or that you're my guide. What it does change is that now I know why I want to touch you all the time. Why I need to be near you and to breathe in your space. I know now why looking at you makes every cell in my body sing and tingle like the first day of spring." 

"Damn, Jim, that's pretty. I didn't know you were romantic." Blair reached over shyly to stroke the large hand resting near his. Joining fingers, the two men moved closer. 

Blair hesitated as Jim's face neared his. "Jim, I don't want you to catch this thing." 

Smiling slyly, Jim laughed. "Chief, this thing already has me. Now, come here and let me kiss you before my lips break." 

"You're sexy when you're butch." Blair's tiny giggle vibrated Jim's tongue as it snaked heat between his lips. Breathing became superfluous as fiery desire streaked down his throat, through every muscle, every tissue. Enflamed, his stomach coiled with pulsing ache. Pulling back after a round of merry heartbeats, the young guide gasped for air. "Oh, man, where'd you learn to kiss like that?" 

Jim traced a lazy finger down the bristled jaw and let his thumb rub gently across a puffy lower lip. "In my dreams I've imagined this moment, this first kiss." 

"Really?" 

"Really. I want you to know something, Blair." 

"What?" 

"I'm not playing around here." The serious tone dripped slow, dark honey over the words. "I really love you and I need to know that you're going to stay with me on this." 

Blair took a deep breath to slow his shaking. Reaching up, he grasp the hand still gently touching his cheek. Bringing it around to his lips, he kissed the palm with a light and delicate kiss. Very softly, for sentinel ears only, he whispered. "Jim Ellison and eternity, that's my pledge. You're mine and I'm yours." 

"Bet your ass, Chief." 

"We're risking everything here, Jim. What's going to happen when people find out?" 

Icy blue eyes sparkled and Jim flashed his special kick-ass grin. "They'd better be happy or move out of the way." 

Laughing, his eyes moisture bright, Blair stared at the man holding his hand. "I hear that." 

"Then hear this, Blair Sandburg. You're my life and my guide and don't ever be afraid to tell me what you feel. Understand?" Jim's grip tightened. 

"I understand, Jim. I finally understand. It's not just about friendship, it's about love, too." 

"You're finally learning. Now, I think we'd better get you to bed." 

"Jim!" 

Almost snorting, Jim slapped Blair's shoulder playfully. "Don't be a dog, Chief. Your fever's back. I'll get your pills." 

"Okay, but, Jim, we are going to have to talk about that part of it." 

"Listen, Chief, we'll talk all you want later." Turning and moving up behind where Blair sat, Jim wrapped his arms about his best friend's chest. Holding him closer, the dark curls teased the skin through his shirt. Leaning forward the herbal aroma drifted up from the freshly washed hair. He kissed the top of his head and then spoke very firmly, very quietly. "But when you and I are both ready, we'll do more than talk. Right now we both need to process this and go easy. Besides, first you have to get well." 

Whining slightly as he pressed a bit harder against the broad chest, the young man complained, "I'm trying, Jim." 

"I know. For now, we'll just ease into this. A little kiss and cuddle and a lot of romance. How does that sound, love?" 

"Like I'm dreaming?" 

"You saying I'm the man of your dreams, Chief?" 

"No doubt." 

"None?" 

Blair Sandburg closed his eyes and wallowed in the warm sensation of Jim's embrace. Nestled there he finally had no problem saying, "None at all, Jim. Just don't let me wake up." 

As playful fingers teased his nipples, Blair straightened with pleasure. "Oh, I'll wake you up, Chief. I'm just not letting you go." 

"No catch and release?" 

"The guppy's mine and I'm not sharing." 

"Jim, please, man, not the guppy thing again." 

The rumble of laughter excited the back of Blair's neck now being nibbled and kissed. "Oh, man, guppy all you want. Just don't stop." 

"Don't intend to, Gupcake." Groaning with indignity and pleasure, Blair Sandburg surrendered, totally enthralled by the power of his Sentinel and friend. He blinked and sighed in shear amazement when he realized that Jim Ellison certainly knew his way around his guide. 

The End 


End file.
